


Mari Christmas

by harmonicacave



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, ML Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 23:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9042653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harmonicacave/pseuds/harmonicacave
Summary: It's the second Christmas since Parisian heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir first appeared, and neither humbugs nor akumas can get in the way of an enjoyable Christmas for Marinette and her friends. Nothing, that is, if Alya can learn to give better gifts, Marinette can quit daydreaming about Adrien, and Chat Noir and Ladybug can decide if they're ready for an actual gift exchange between partners...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the #mlsecretsanta 2k16 gift exchange: for tumblr user ninolahiffe!

“Merry Christmas, Marinette,” a warm voice called from over her shoulder. Marinette looked up from her drawing pad to see Adrien standing beside her. She took a deep breath — an almost prayer for calmness, as she had not been expecting anyone to visit her in the relative quiet of her favorite thinking spot: the Trocadero. She was definitely not expecting _him_.

“M-merry Christmas, Adrien.” Marinette smiled at the boy, who met her with a broader grin. Another deep breath failed to slow Marinette’s pounding heart. _Don’t freak out; don’t freak out; don’t freak out._

“I brought you something,” Adrien said, and he reached into his messenger bag to fish out a wrapped present. The small parcel nearly fit in one hand.

No, that wasn’t right. The present was huge. How did it even fit in that bag?

Wait, that was wrong, too. It was the size of...a book, maybe? Or maybe it was—it was another of Marinette’s daydreams. Not counting the tourists or vendors nearby, Marinette and her kwami were alone. Adrien and his imagined present were nowhere to be seen.

Marinette looked down at her drawing pad. Half of her latest design work had been covered over with Adrien’s face. Another part of the page was full of scribbles of presents: the small parcel, the book box, the plausible-rival-to-Santa’s-bag monstrosity. Tikki peered from her purse hideout as Marinette scratched her pencil across her work with a sigh.

* * *

 

“Those are good drawings, Marinette,” piped Tikki from within the purse.

“Thanks, Tikki,” Marinette spoke low. “But I was supposed to be figuring out designs to make everyone’s Christmas presents.”

Tikki risked another peek from the bag to smile at the girl.

“Don’t worry. You’ve got plenty of time before Christmas!” Tikki’s words cheered Marinette a little; she turned to a new page and picked up her pencil determinedly.

Suddenly Marinette’s phone buzzed. Alya was calling.

“But not plenty of time to get home!” Marinette exclaimed, pulling her phone from her pocket. “Alya’s gonna be there any minute.”

*.*.*

A few minutes later, Marinette skidded to a stop at the front door of her parents’ bakery. She adjusted her blazer and reached for the door, but Alya was quicker. The door swung open, startling Marinette into losing grip on her drawing pad.

“Sorry, girl. I was trying to give you a hand,” Alya explained, bending to pick up the scattered pencils.

“All in a day’s work,” Marinette laughed.

“How are the present ideas coming?” Alya asked when the two girls reached Marinette’s room. Marinette answered with a glare and a dramatic collapse on the chaise lounge.

“An interpretive dance? You’re really kicking up the caliber of gifts this year.”

“See for yourself,” Marinette groaned and shoved the book towards Alya. Alya flipped to the most recent page.

“Girl, you’ve got it bad.” Alya patted Marinette on the head affectionately. “Please promise not to make me a sweater covered with photos of Adrien for Christmas. ...or ever.”

“I think you could pull it off,” Marinette countered, sitting up.

“I’d pull that sweater off faster than you’d believe.”

“Perhaps there’s another face you’d prefer on your Christmas sweater?” Marinette smirked, but Alya only pushed her friend back over. “Hey! OK, OK… But have you decided what you want me to make for ‘he-who-must-not-be-embroidered-on-a-sweater?’”

Alya looked down.

“I was thinking… Could you make something to keep his headphone cord from tangling?” Alya asked.

“Sure!” said Marinette. She picked up her sketchbook. “I have a few different ideas. Let me show you. Do you think Nino would want it in blue?”

*.*.*

Adrien slumped further in his chair. He felt he had been at the computer for hours, searching for the perfect gifts for his friends. Nino was easy enough, and he had a few ideas already for Chloe and Alya. Maybe his father could recommend something for Marinette. But Ladybug…

“Plagg, what should I give her?” Adrien inquired. “And before you suggest it, Ladybug would not want a Christmas cheese.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that,” Plagg said, flying out of his trash can home. “Christmas cheese did _not_ go over well with Ladybugs past.” Adrien perked up.

“Chat Noirs and Ladybugs have exchanged gifts before? What did go over well?”

“All right, I’ll tell you what you should do. You might want to write this down…” Plagg paused for dramatic effect. “Give Ladybug nothing, and buy me more cheese.”

Adrien frowned. “You’re no help.”

Plagg shrugged and flew down to Adrien’s desk.

“What even could you give her?”

“That’s the problem,” Adrien sighed. “Food’s too trivial. Something significant would put her identity at risk. I don’t know her interests or her likes or her taste in jewelry — all I see is her earrings, and she can’t really use a second pair.”

“Give her nothing. Give me cheese.”

*.*.*

Marinette woke up early on the last day of school before Christmas break. Her father had asked her to mail a few Christmas cards, so Marinette had stayed up last night making cards for all her classmates, too.

Alya met her at the post box outside the park by the bakery — narrowly preventing Marinette from depositing the wrong stack of mail.

“You have such trouble with letters, girl,” Alya teased. “Are you sure you signed your cards this time?”

“Yes!” retorted Marinette, rushing up the steps to their school. When they reached the top, Alya swung her arm around Marinette, a frequent act of apology.

“You know I was only kidding.”

“Yo, Alya! Marinette!” Nino called from a bench in the gym. The girls hurried over to him.

“Merry Christmas,” Marinette said as she delivered her first Christmas cards with a flourish: one to Alya and one to Nino.

“Dude!” Nino opened the card eagerly. Marinette’s tidy handwriting wished him happy holidays. In Alya’s card, however, no such writing was seen. Marinette frowned.

“Well, I signed most of them…” Marinette insisted.

“Cool cards, Marinette.” Adrien arrived at their bench.

“Chrerry Mistmas! I mean, merry Christmas, Adrien!” Marinette handed Adrien a card, blushing faintly. He thanked her.

“Let her know if she forgot to sign that one, too,” Alya told him.

“Too?” Adrien lifted an eyebrow.

“She forgot to sign Alya’s,” Nino explained. “By the way, Marinette, how did you make these? Can you show me, uh, in the classroom?”

Whatever Nino wanted to ask Marinette, it wasn’t about these cards, she was willing to bet. Nevertheless, she followed him upstairs, leaving Adrien to open the card without her.

“She has forgotten to sign several before,” Marinette heard Alya say before she was out of earshot.

“Nino, this better be important,” Marinette said as they entered Miss Bustier’s class.

“It is, I swear. Will you tell me if this is OK for Alya for Christmas?” Nino held up a photo on his phone. Marinette took the phone from his hand. On the screen was a microphone that Alya could use for interviews that would plug into her phone.

“Is it a good idea?” He asked again.

“It’s a perfect idea. She would love that,” Marinette said. But her stomach sank when she considered how Alya’s gift for Nino would compare. _Even if she gave him the hat I was making, too…_

Nino smiled. “Thanks, dude.”

Marinette had passed out a few more of her cards by the time Alya took her seat.

“He didn’t open his card yet; I think he was waiting on you,” Alya whispered.

“Really?” Marinette tried to not read much into this news. She did not succeed. A smile crept broadly across her face.

“Yeah, if you want to go back down there,” Alya continued.

“Wait, Alya, something else first. I’ve been thinking about your gift for—” Alya shushed Marinette.

“Not here. Come with me.”

Alya pulled Marinette by the arm to the locker room.

“I’ve been thinking about your gift some more, and are you sure you don’t want me to try something more creative?”

“Nah, I think your cord keeper looks great so far.”

“I just thought maybe you might want to give him something nicer,” Marinette trailed off. Alya studied her face.  

“You know something.” Marinette nodded reluctantly.

“Nino was asking me for, uh, ideas,” Marinette skirted around details. “But I think your idea is good, too!”

Alya looked serious.

“No. You have to help me think of something better. I can’t let him beat me!”

Adrien arrived in the classroom shortly after Marinette and Alya made their exit. She’s such a sweet girl, he thought as he held the card in his hands at his desk. Such attention to detail on even the envelope!

Marinette was pleased to see Adrien holding her card proudly when she returned.

“Are you saving it for Christmas?” she asked. _Thank God, that came out right._ Bolstered by that small confidence, Marinette leaned a hand on his desk.

“Do you want me to?” Adrien’s eyes searched hers. Marinette’s hand slipped and she toppled to the floor, suddenly sitting down hard on the stair behind her.

“No! I mean, you can open it whenever,” Marinette replied, trying to pass her fall as intentional. Adrien stood up and offered a hand.

“Well, if you’re not taking a stand for when it’s opened, I’ll read it now,” smiled Adrien as he helped Marinette to her seat. Marinette almost snorted. That was not the reaction she expected. 

It was several minutes into class before she could focus on anything that wasn’t Adrien. What did he think of her card? And what was he thinking with such a pun?

Miss Bustier called order to the class right as Adrien slid open the envelope. Not wanting to have his card confiscated, he was forced to only skim it, but he saw enough to see that Marinette had put a lot of work into it. He was fairly certain the poem inside was something she had written herself. _Should I write another poem for Ladybug?_ Adrien found himself thinking.

*.*.*

“Chat Noir,” called Ladybug as Chat spun his staff through the air to catch up with her in pursuit of an akuma victim, Greed. “The akuma is in the calculator.”

“Thanks for the _sum_ mary, M’lady. Let’s show Hawkmoth that his calculations won’t add up.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes and tossed her yo-yo to the next building, where Greed was launching waves of receipts towards Paris residents below. Chat Noir hesitated. He had hoped for at least a chuckle. He had thought Ladybug was finally warming up to his puns.

“Nope, not a poem,” Chat Noir mumbled to himself as he pushed off towards Greed. Plagg’s words echoed in his head: “Christmas cheese did not go over well with Ladybugs past.”

One “cataclysm” and “lucky charm” later, the fight was over. Chat Noir was holding out his fist to Ladybug. “Pound it.”

“Nice job today, Chat,” Ladybug said as she swung her yo-yo over her head, preparing to make an exit. Chat Noir put up a hand to signal.

“Wait, LB.” Ladybug dropped her arm, bringing her yo-yo to a stop safely into her left hand. Chat Noir picked up her right hand, holding it in his own. She did not pull away. “Will you meet me at Christmas?”

Ladybug felt as if her yo-yo had instead dropped on her head. How had she forgotten to consider a present for her partner?

*.*.*

“He didn’t say you had to bring him a present,” Tikki reminded Marinette, who was in no small way freaking out in her bedroom. Chat Noir wanted to meet up with Ladybug on Christmas. Ladybug had agreed in spite of herself.

“After my behavior last Christmas, I probably owe him two,” Marinette said.

“You probably owe Santa a few as well. But let’s not relive last Christmas, please!”

“Maybe I’ll just bake him something,” Marinette suggested before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

Marinette had always found cooking with her parents to be therapeutic. Her parents worked so well together, a real team, and the results were nearly always great. But this time, as also was usual, Marinette found cooking with her parents to become a session on life lessons.

“ _Maman_ , what sort of baked good is best when you don’t know what someone likes?” Marinette asked as her family baked together.

“Chocolate croissant,” her father, Tom Dupain, teased from the other side of the room.

“Not everyone likes chocolate, Tom,” Sabine called back. “Some bread would be safest.”

“That doesn’t seem like quite a Christmas present,” Marinette protested.

“I’m sure whatever you make them will be quite all right,” Tom said. “Who is this for?”

“Ah, I’m still trying to figure out what to give my friends.”

“Your friend Adrien seemed quite taken with my savory pie,” hinted Sabine.

“Mom!”

“Just trying to give you some ideas,” Sabine said, scooping cookie dough onto a greased baking sheet. “Next to making memories with someone, a plate of food can be great for friendship. Or something more.”

“ _Maman_ ,” Marinette groaned.

*.*.*

Alya was having even less luck figuring out a gift for Nino. She hated to admit it, but she was not a good gift giver. These sort of things just didn’t matter to her very much — or they hadn’t before. Now Alya was on edge almost as much as Marinette, which was odd, seeing as Marinette had finished making most of the presents she needed. Only her sense of journalism ethics had kept her from pressing Marinette or even Nino for more information on her gift, but nothing kept her from begging Marinette for new ideas.

By the end of the night, the floor was littered with papers filled with ideas for a gift, but none of them struck Alya’s (nor, more secretly, Marinette’s) fancy as an acceptable present. And when Alya headed home, Marinette soon found herself in bed, having nothing more to do than hope for a more successful day tomorrow.

*.*.*

It was finally happening: Marinette and Adrien were exchanging gifts with each other. He looked so thrilled to be opening her present, but then he paused and handed her one as well. Marinette pulled on the ribbon wrapped around Adrien’s present to her, but each tug on the bow only made the present grow larger and larger. Marinette couldn’t see past the gift box any more.

“Adrien, are you OK?”

No answer. She pulled more urgently on the bow and it untied, finally.

“Adrien?”

“In here,” came a voice from inside the gift box. Marinette began digging through piles and piles of tissue paper. Suddenly she could see a hand. She held on tightly to the side of the box, and with the other hand, she took hold of her sinking friend.

“Three, two, one!” She pulled both of them upward out of tissue paper. It was not Adrien, but Chat Noir.

“How do you like my gift, m’lady?”

_Marinette sat straight up in bed, very much awake and very much unhappy._

*.*.*

Marinette woke again to the sound of a polite knock on her door.

“Good morning, Marinette. Your friend Nino is here, if you want to say hello,” Tom’s voice carried from the stairs.

Marinette rolled out of bed.

“Thanks, Papa,” she said automatically, then froze. “Wait, he’s in our house?”

“No, he’s picking up an order from the bakery.”

“I’ll be right down.”

Marinette made quick work of looking presentable and hurried downstairs to the bakery.

“Good morning,” she greeted Nino, who was enjoying a cafe au lait by the window and looking rather chilled in his usual t-shirt and jeans.

“Cold morning,” Nino replied, trying not to shiver.

“You should have worn a coat or something,” Marinette said. Nino would not disagree; he only shrugged.

“I was half-asleep when I left my house. I was hoping to sleep in during break!”

Marinette smiled. 8 a.m. was sleeping in when you lived in a bakery.

“I have just the thing,” Marinette told him. “I’ll be right back.”

Marinette sprinted back down the stairs a minute later, carrying a medium-sized package.

“Here you go.”

Nino unwrapped the gift to see a winter hat Marinette had made him.

“Merry Christmas, a little early again,” she said.

“Wow, thanks, Marinette!” Nino said, shoving the dark blue hat on his head. “It’s a perfect fit.”

Nino took the hat off and flipped it to reveal the light blue inside of the hat.

“This thick lining should keep your head warm at least,” Marinette said, pointing to the light blue fabric scraps she had sewn together.

“Definitely.”

A few minutes later, now armed with his family’s order, Nino put the hat back on and left. The bakery was past its busiest hours now, so Marinette could return to her room for more sewing.

“I need your help with something, Tikki,” Marinette said as she cleared off her desk to finish the hem on Alya’s ladybug scarf present.

“With stitching?” Tikki said apprehensively. Marinette had not yet been able to convert Tikki to any form of seamstress. Probably because Tikki too closely resembled a pin cushion.

“Oh, no, I can finish this up myself. I need to run an idea off you.” Tikki looked relieved.

“I’ve got a pretty crazy idea for Chat Noir’s present, but I need help with logistics.”

By the time Alya came over that afternoon, Marinette had wrapped the rest of her presents — the new aprons for her parents, Alya’s scarf, Adrien’s sweater (without his face on it) — and figured out a plan for something for Chat.

It was good that Marinette was ahead of the game, because Alya’s plan for Nino was not going well.

“Just give him a shirt that says #DJWifi.”

“I will kill you, Marinette.”

Three death threats already. Definitely not going well.

 

Meanwhile, Nino was walking to the Agreste mansion. A lot had changed in the year since the Bubbler incident, but going to visit Adrien was still bit uncomfortable for him. Nathalie ushered him into Adrien’s room without ceremony, taking Nino’s jacket with her.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to your house, bro,” Nino said as he sat down on Adrien’s couch.

“Hey, me neither,” Adrien joked back.

Nino slid off the hat Marinette made him and picked up a video game controller.

“Dibs on player one,” he said. Adrien smirked; Nino said that every time, as if Adrien had ever minded. Adrien joined him on the couch — and beat Nino soundly in a round of Ultimate Mecha Strike IV.

After the boys had played awhile, Adrien sat down his controller and picked up Nino’s hat.

“Marinette’s Christmas present this year,” Nino said. “It’s really warm!”

“Oh yeah, that hat she made me last year was great, too,” Adrien recalled. “Except then I gave it to Santa Claus.”

Nino shook his head. “Classic Agreste, always name-dropping celebrities.”

Adrien turned the hat over in his hand, suddenly regretting having given away his gift. He remembered the bowler hat she’d made in that contest; his father had commented on her talent when he replaced the feathers with synthetic — something about strong seams and excellent craftsmanship.

Adrien’s fingers ran across the hat in his hands. Something felt familiar. He flipped the hat inside out and found himself staring at a recognizable shade of blue.

“My scarf,” said Adrien quietly. Nino looked at him. Adrien stood up and hurried to his closet, thumbing through his wardrobe until he found his 14th birthday gift. But could it really be from Marinette instead of his father?

Adrien held up the scarf next to Nino’s hat: a perfect match.

“Dude,” Nino said, accepting the hat back from his friend.

“I think… I think Marinette made this scarf.” Adrien was running his fingers across the fabric, searching for her signature somewhere woven into the seams. There! He flipped the bottom of the scarf towards him, forcing Nino to lean back to avoid being slapped in the process.

“M-A-R-I-N-E-T-T-E.”

Adrien frowned.

“Then how did my father come across this as a gift?”

Neither boy would believe he had commissioned her back then. That day had been an exceptionally… _hard_ day for friends of Adrien.

“I’m sure there’s a very good explanation. Somehow…” Nino trailed off. Adrien shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter, not at the moment. I need to thank Marinette.”

 

“Marinette, that’s it! I know what to get Nino,” Alya declared excitedly, a few blocks away from the boys’ own revelation. Marinette blinked. Alya had just been talking about the new panther cub at her dad’s zoo; surely that wasn’t related. _Though Nino does like panthers…_

“You’re going to have to explain.”

“I need you to sew a bag to put it all in,” Alya continued. _Is she going to steal the panther???_

“Alya! Explain. It’s sounding like you’re plotting a panther heist.” Alya looked shocked. She laughed loudly.

“Ah, sorry, girl. I was thinking of my dad’s zookeeper kit, but for film stuff.” Both girls laughed now.

“That’s a great idea. And we can still give him his cord organizer, too.”

“I know. I’m— _we’re_ brilliant.”

*.*.*

The day before Christmas, there was a knock at Marinette’s door. It was Adrien, holding a long and thin gift box wrapped in thick Christmas paper: red with white polka-dots.

“Adrien!” Marinette squeaked and almost closed the door on him.

“Merry Christmas, Marinette. May I come in?” Adrien pushed the door lightly.

“Yes, of course. Sorry,” Marinette grinned. Adrien was in her living room. With a Christmas present. _Adrien was in her living room with a Christmas present!_

“Do you want something to eat?” Marinette gestured towards the kitchen counter, where various Christmas treats were on display. Adrien’s eyes widened and smile grew.

“Yeah, actually, please!”

Adrien, Marinette and a plate of sweets were soon settled in Marinette’s room.

“Oh, this is for you,” Adrien said, handing Marinette his gift. His eyes lingered on Marinette’s face. _Was he blushing?_

“I have something for you, too,” she stammered, pulling out a box from around the corner.

“You go first?” He asked — and who was Marinette to disoblige? She ran a nail through the tape and carefully unwrapped the gift, preserving the pretty paper. Marinette jiggled the box lid free and gasped.

The box held a pretty scarf — red fleece of a similar cut and length to the blue scarf she’d made Adrien. What did he mean by this?

“I wanted to thank you. I know you made the scarf for my birthday last year, and…” Adrien scratched his head. “Well, I’ve said this before, but you really are amazing, Marinette.”

Marinette buried her face in the scarf to avoid looking at Adrien through this speech.

“Y-you’re we-welcome,” Marinette mumbled into the scarf.

“Can I open mine now?” Adrien playfully shook the other gift box. Marinette finally looked up. She nodded, and he quickly unwrapped her gift.

Adrien picked up the bottle green sweater from inside the box.

“Wow.”

“Do you like it?” Marinette asked. Adrien nodded, shaking off his white overshirt and pulling the sweater over his head to try it on. It fit exactly.

“How do I look?” he asked Marinette.

“Like you’re ready for a picture,” Alya called out from the steps into the room, holding up her phone. “Smile, guys!”

Adrien slid an arm behind Marinette to pose. Marinette prayed her grin did not betray her bewilderment. A photo of just herself and Adrien!

“Thank you,” mouthed Marinette to Alya as they made room for her to join them by the desk. Marinette pulled out a second parcel from the corner and handed it to her best friend.

“As you open this, tell us how Nino liked his present,” Marinette demanded with a smile. Marinette picked up her phone, ready to snap a picture of Alya’s reaction.

“He loved it. The bag was awesome, the kit was great, but you’ll never guess what he would not stop talking about—Marinette, this is incredible!”

Alya held up a scarf and gloves made of red fabric as similar to Ladybug’s costume as one could find. Black polka dots adorned all sides. Marinette beamed, and Adrien laughed.

“Those gloves work on touch screens,” Marinette explained. “And look at the edge.”

“The Ladyblog logo!” Alya pulled the gloves on and gave her a thumbs up.

“Looks like red scarfs are a popular item,” he said, looking sheepishly at the scarf he’d made.

“Let me see,” said Alya. She picked up the near end of Marinette’s fleece scarf. There was something sewn at the edge. Marinette noticed it now, too.

“Did you make this?” Both girls asked him.

“What gave it away?” said Adrien. “The ragged edges? The lack of sewing?” Marinette giggled.

“You signed your name.” Marinette pointed at the end in Alya’s hand, where black stitching formed the letters ADRIEN.

“Oh, right.” Adrien laughed. “Hey, Alya, aren’t you going to finish your story? What did Nino like the best?”

“He loved the headphone cord organizer.”

*.*.*

On Christmas evening, Ladybug landed softly near the Trocadero. Chat Noir was waiting for her. He looked delighted to see her.

“Merry Christmas, Minou,” Ladybug greeted, tousling his hair affectionately.

“It is now,” he said. Ladybug smiled in spite of herself.

“And what do you have planned for us this evening?”

“That’s a secret, Ladybug.”

“I promise not to tell,” Ladybug joked.

Chat Noir pretended to check a nonexistent wrist watch.

“And _now_ we can go. Come on; this way, m’lady.”

Chat Noir wanted to offer Ladybug his arm, but she seemed content to just follow. They walked down the street towards the Eiffel Tower.

“Is it the Eiffel Tower, Chat? Because 300-meter towers do not make good surprises. They’re a bit hard to hide.”

“You’ll see.” They continued to walk.

“Is it far?” Ladybug asked.

“Not much further,” Chat answered. They were standing on a bridge. Chat Noir held out his hand to lead Ladybug down some stairs to the Seine.

Strands of lights on anchored boats twinkled as Chat and Ladybug continued their walk along the riverbank. Then, Chat Noir paused.

“Here we are: Paris’ most beautiful Christmas display!” There were three boats docked in front of them, each nearly covered in Christmas lights. It was stunning, but perhaps not in a good way.

“Um, Chat, I’m not sure we agree on this point,” Ladybug began.

“Impossible, LB. Anywhere’s beautiful when you’re there.”

“Chat!”

“OK, you found me out. I brought us here on accident. I think I made a wrong turn.” The two heroes laughed.

“In that case, can we make a quick detour?” Ladybug inquired. “I have something I want to show you.”

 

Ladybug tapped on the window of Alya’s room. The aspiring reporter rushed to the window with a nod, then hurried out of the room — emerging soon from her house with her phone and new microphone.

“Merry Christmas, Ladybug and Chat Noir! Care to record a holiday message for the Ladyblog?”

“I was hoping we could get a picture instead,” Ladybug told her. Alya nodded.

“How should we pose?” Chat Noir asked, but Ladybug was ready. She slipped her arm around his waist and pulled Chat into a side hug. Alya snapped a photo.

“Freak out!”

 

Soon, Chat Noir and Ladybug made their way to Chat’s intended destination — a huge decorated tree — carrying two printed photos that Alya had taken.

“Alya’s putting this photo up on the Ladyblog, so everyone who wants one can have one. That way us having these photos doesn’t raise suspicions as civilians,” Ladybug explained.

“Thank you, Ladybug. It’s purrfect. Purrhaps much better than what I have for you.”

“It’s definitely better than those puns,” she chided. Chat Noir chose to ignore that. It was time to be serious.

“Ladybug,” Chat began, fidgeting with his zipper pocket. “I know I don’t know who you are behind the mask, but I know you. And I want you to have this.”

Chat reached in his pocket and hid something in his hand, which he held out to her.

“Chat, I don’t think I should,” Ladybug said reluctantly.

“Please, it was my mother’s. And it’s very small.”

Ladybug held out her hand; he deposited two tiny pins: a cat and a ladybug made of beautiful Cloisonné enamel.

“Thank you, Chat. I don’t know what to say.”

“Merry Christmas, M’lady.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think or check out more of my stuff on here, or say hi at harmonicacave.tumblr.com.


End file.
